A part of me recognized why his words would be appealing to someone who felt isolated from society. A person who had been abused. Who had been ruined. There was hope in believing you were special. That God had a plan. It allowed you to accept the awful things that had happened to you, because better things were waiting.
This small, pocketed group of individuals were all the same. They were looking for something greater than themselves.
It made them easy prey for a savvy predator.
That’s exactly what Jeremy Carter was. I was curious how a man became the leader of a cult—sorry, ‘religious movement.’ But it was hard to learn much about him.
No one seemed to know anything beyond the pretty fairytale he depicted for them. His past was shrouded in something akin to legend. It was claimed he was a solider during the Gulf War. That he had been badly wounded and while he lay, dying in the desert, an angel had come to him. Had told him that the end of days was coming. That he needed to save the worthy. To create a family he could lead to heaven. So, he had abandoned his post and come back to the states. He began living on his grandfather’s land in backwoods Virginia. He built a house and waited for the first of his disciples to find him. And they came. The chosen ones. Those he was destined to take with him at The Awakening.
It was a bunch of bullshit.
You’ve hear one apocalyptic tirade, you’ve heard them all. Pastor Carter wasn’t any different than David Koresh or Jim Jones. His message was the same as those psychopaths before him.
Give everything over to his cause. Your money. Your life. Your free will. And in return he’d show you the way to salvation.
I had the sense that his “message” was dictated by a narcissistic need. To orchestrate a world wherehewas God.
I looked at Pastor Carter and saw a very mortal man, as far from divinity as you could get. He lusted after very mortal things. Money. Sex. And most of all power. Because these sad, desperate people fed his need forcontrol.
And they let him.
It made me sick.
He most likely had an incredibly tiny dick. There seemed to be some serious overcompensation going on.
I couldn’t hear people tell the tale of the amazing Pastor Carter without wanting to laugh. But to these people, it was absolute and total truth.
They had no idea that they were being fed lies.
Yet, for the time being I was stuck here. I had to play the part, or I had no doubt he’d get rid of me. So, until I could convince David to leave, I would stay.
I stood at the edge of the clearing. Fifty or so people all lay on the damp grass, wearing white. Eyes closed.
It was fucking creepy.
I looked down at my own white ensemble. One of the women had brought us “prayer clothes” not long after we had arrived. White slacks and a white button down shirt. The material was rough and made me itch. Pastor Carter insisted that we throw away our old clothing.
“Do away with all connections to an outside life,” he preached. His mantra was lame as hell.
But I had tossed my pricey Columbia fleece and hiking boots. I kept a pair of jeans and a T-shirt underneath my mattress. They were my escape clothes. Fuck if I was going to step foot outside the gate dressed like I was on my way to be baptized.
My eyes roamed over each of them until I found the person I was looking for.
Sara had never come to dinner last night. And when I knocked on her door afterwards, she hadn’t answered.
I had been upset when I didn’t see her again. I would have stayed outside her door all night just to see her, but I figured that would come across as a bit stalkery.
I had every intention of leaving soon. Of taking my brother and forgetting this place every existed.
Only, now there washerto consider.
I knew I would never be able to forget about Sara. Or leave her behind. Which led to a whole new set of problems. Because I wasn’t sure she would ever leave The Gathering of the Sun. What sort of person was I to expect her to abandon her family? Her whole world?
But I was terrified at the thought of leaving her.
I knew that walking away from her wasn’t a possibility. Not anymore.
Because in spite of the world she grew up in, she retained something that set her apart.
